Emberwood [m] I am just a fool, 'cause I could be in love if I really tried

Cambria returned from a foray to the east, hustling restlessly through the familiar maple forest. When he reached its western edge, he glanced northward toward the rise, though only for a second. The yearling pivoted, cruising in a southerly direction now. He paused at the marsh to break through some thin ice and slake his thirst.

He intended to continue toward the creek, though the wind suddenly shifted. It hit Cambria’s nose and snuffed out his thought processes like the flame of a candle. His head whipped in the direction of the neighboring woods half a heartbeat before his paws followed suit. Without really thinking about it at all, he prowled into the trees.

He followed the scent until he came upon a petite woman who appeared to be digging a den. Cambria’s blown pupils lingered on the slope of her silver back as she worked. He licked his lips, his tongue running over a days-old cut. The pain abruptly allowed his ego to overtake his id again. The Dragonling blinked, realizing himself, and took a step back.